Of ancient Troy, to make thy people's laws,
And send beneath thy yoke the conquered tribes;
Thou shalt not fiercely slay the fleeing Greeks,
Nor from thy car in retribution drag
Achilles' son; the dart from thy small hand775
Thou ne'er shalt hurl, nor boldly press the chase
Of scattered beasts throughout the forest glades;
And when the sacred lustral day is come,
Troy's yearly ritual of festal games,
The charging squadrons of the noble youth